


Devil's Advocate

by VaellintheBard



Series: Redeye Roast [2]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Post-Season/Series 03, Post-Time Skip, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Teen Crush, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:46:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22284319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaellintheBard/pseuds/VaellintheBard
Summary: Working at a cafe can be difficult. Especially when you have feelings for a coworker. And said coworker happens to be your boss’ step daughter. And your boss is the literal Devil. At least it has its perks, too.Sequel to “We Don’t Drink Until the Devil’s Turned to Dust”(Updates once or twice a month as I work on other projects, may change to more if time allows)
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Trixie Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Trixie Decker & Original Character(s), Trixie Decker/Original Character(s)
Series: Redeye Roast [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604044
Comments: 20
Kudos: 121





	1. Focus on the now

**Author's Note:**

> For those coming in on the story here, I recommend reading it’s prequel, but I will try to have it so that most explanations are in the actual story--without being too boring in recap to my previous readers too. Major things to keep in mind: Post Season 3 where Chloe rejected Lucifer and Lucifer ended up in Hell for 6 years. This is 7 years after Season 3, and Lucifer has since returned, opened a cafe, hired Trixie and Christian to work there, and is slowly recovering from his PTSD. Oh and everyone found out the truth, one way or another.
> 
> Also feel free to reach me on twitter: @Vaellin

His family would never understand even if he explained it. Especially if he explained it. Moving out had been his only choice to handle his predicament and it was a huge blessing that Lu had similarly been moving from his home above the cafe to his girlfriend’s apartment. When the cafe owner heard Christian was moving out, he was quick to offer the room, completely rent free, and Christian had no choice but to accept. Los Angeles was expensive and even Lu’s generous paychecks wouldn’t help him get an apartment.

Jesus had offered to join him, have them split an apartment, but this was an issue he couldn’t bring to his blood brother either. Perhaps in the future, but until Christian sorted everything out himself…

Well, Christian was having a crisis of faith.

Not that he didn’t believe in God, anymore. Quite the opposite. When your boss reveals himself to be an angel--specifically the Devil--it’s hard not to believe. The problem was that the Devil, the Adversary, a being that was supposed to be his immortal enemy and everything evil was…. Not. Lu was a great man, in fact. Willing to give up everything to protect those he loved and absolute scared he could lose it all in an instant. 

If the Devil was such a kind but broken soul, rather than the monster of legend, what did that mean when it came to everything else Christian was raised to believe?

He’d tried to reason through it at first, even keeping a semblance of normalcy. However, after the dust settled--which was particularly riled up due to a kidnapping incident--he found himself often left alone with his thoughts.

There _were_ people Christian could talk to. Jesus aside, just about everyone who knew Lu knew he was the Devil. If he wanted adult conversation, there were cops and even a therapist. Two of his friends had a rather rude awakening, too, and could relate on that level. There were even celestials and one infernal who he could ask questions to, and no doubt Lu was open for discussion. However, if he wanted to talk to the best person, someone his age who was eased into the discovery rather than shoved, then he had a whole other issue. Because with Trixie, he could sort out his thoughts. But first he’d have to sort out his feelings.

Really, there were too many problems and each one seemed far more important and impossible to climb due to the others, like he was balancing carefully on a top, trying not to tilt the object and come tumbling down, losing everything.

His thoughts about his religion and Lucifer.

His growing feelings towards Trixie.

His future and where he even wanted to go.

His concerns over making sure his friends and family were okay if he left.

It felt like all too much for the teenager to handle, but there wasn’t anywhere to drop off some of the weight. But he’d do it. Bit by bit, he’d start to drop of segments and work his way through everything. He could do this. He would do this. He just wasn’t sure how long it’d take.

*

“No, Lu, my parents would _not_ appreciate finding a bag of drugs stuffed under the desk. You’ve met them; they aren’t that kind of people. _Please_ come by today to reallocate the _five_ bags I found. And the bottle of liquor unless you want me to stuff it in your cupboard downstairs.” Christian sighed heavily as he continued to stuff his belongings in the dresser. He wouldn’t typically complain, but he wasn’t sure of the procedure of getting rid of drugs and the only ideas he came up with would get Lucifer in trouble with the police or himself in trouble with drug dealers. 

It was a Saturday, which was the one day Lu would leave completely to Christian now, with the help from the rest of his friends later on. This meant an early, lonely morning as he began prep work. Fortunately, nearly a year of working in the cafe made the process more routine than chaos as he chopped vegetables, pulled out new syrups, replaced pumps and restocked the cupboards. As he was dusting the piano in the corner, the door to the cafe jingled open, a cheerful bell announcing an arrival. Christian tossed a quick glance to the clock on the wall before calling back. “Sorry, we don’t open for another ten minutes, but if it’s a quick order I can help anyway.”

“And here I thought _I_ was going to help.” The sound of Trixie’s voice made Christian’s heart start racing, for more reasons than him accidentally accusing her of being a customer. Damnit, this was becoming a problem.

“Trixie! Good morning!” 

“Good morning, Christian. So what’s left of the setup?”

The young man shrugged before waving his Swiffer wand at the counter. “Usually Mrs. Swanson comes in early morning and wants her bagel toasted and sliced, so if you want to slice some everything bagels, that’d be great.”

“On it!” Trixie replied with a lazy salute. 

Christian watched her for a few moments as she pulled out some of the bagels and a clean knife. Trixie stuck her tongue out slightly as she eased the knife through a bagel, focused on her task. As Christian returned to his, being careful with the ancient instrument, he called across the room, “So, Lu didn’t send you here to pick up his drugs?”

“Oh, he tried,” Trix responded. “But not only did I refuse, the threat of letting Mom know of his plans prevented him from pleaing. He said he’ll be in around one; he wants to check on LUX first.”

Lu essentially worked three jobs in LA. LUX, a club he owned in the past, was mostly handled by the demon Mazikeen. The cafe, Redeye Roast, was where Lu spent most of his time. And of course he’d resumed his role as a civilian consultant for the LAPD, though usually just when his girlfriend called. Or when he got bored.

More and more time away resulted in Christian assuming responsibilities of Redeye Roast, becoming essentially the second owner. While Christian was comfortable with that, he was getting nervous that eventually he’d be expected to take over entirely. Did he want that? It was nice, the customers were usually pleasant, and the location made it ideal for business, but Christian had dreams of his own. Perhaps he’d renew his plans of traveling to Mars. 

After the store had been open and Christian had let out his fifth sigh, Trix bumped him gently, disturbing him from his thoughts and mechanical customer service responses. “Penny for your thoughts?” she requested with a beaming grin.

“Just trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. Where I want to go from here,” Christian replied, offering the problem that was easiest to discuss.

“What, being a barista for the Devil isn’t in the cards for you?”

“For now, sure, but it’s not really where I want to _be_ at the end of all of this. And it’d be hard to explain to my family.”

“How about ‘Mom, Dad, you know how you call the coffee Lu makes heaven-sent? Well it’s more like hell-sent.”

Christian snorted out half of a laugh. “Maybe we should market a ‘Sulfur, Fire, and Brimstone’ flavor, exclusive to Redeye.”

“That’s just coffee, salt, and a used cigarette.” Both teens made a disgusted face before bursting out laughing. They continued their gleeful laugh until a customer walked up and their service smiles kicked in. Once the customer, who changed her mind three times mid-order, finally strolled away with her drink, Trixie leaned forward on the counter, gazing traveling over the smiling faces in the cafe but not really taking in the sights. “I don’t think you need to know where you’re going quite yet. Taking a year or two off to figure things out is fine. Staying here and saving money is fine too. Going to college, taking over Redeye Roast, becoming a bounty hunter, you have a lot of options. I think there’s way too much push to go out and _be_ something before we know what that is and then we’re given no chance to change.”

Christan leaned forward besider her, hands clasped together as they rested over the edge of the counter. He sighed heavily and nodded. “I know you’re right, but it still feels like a weight on me. The longer I take to decide, the more that weight grows.”

“Then you just have to become stronger. Learn to carry that weight! And then eventually you’ll become strong enough to not worry about it! Emotionally strong! Or… something like that at least.”

“Yeah, don’t become a therapist with that kind of reasoning,” Christian noted with a teasing voice. Trixie frowned briefly before shrugging in feigned indifference. What? What did he say that was wrong? He was just teasing her.

“Anyway, focus on the now, I think. At the very least, you shouldn’t feel like you have to decide right now,” Trix huffed

That was true. Things were finally starting to become somewhat normal. He shouldn’t force his problems out into the open right now, kick up the dust before it completely settled. One step, Christian reminded himself. Take it one step at a time.

The sound of the door opening, bell ringing, and someone entering once more broke up the teens’ conversation. Christian flashed a bright smile at the man who entered, a tall, bright and handsome type with a stern smile that reminded Christian of his father, a smile that had seen the bitterness of war. 

“Hello, welcome to Redeye Roast,” Christian greeted as the man approached the counter.

“Hello,” the man replied, though his attention was not on his barista. “I’m sorry, I’m not here to order anything. Rather, I heard this was where I could find a man named Lucifer Morningstar.”

“He’s not here at the moment. He usually has Saturdays off, but I can take a message,” Christian answered, hoping, praying that this wasn’t the man who sold the drugs hidden in Christian’s apartment. He wasn’t sure what a drug dealer looked like, after all.

“That’s unnecessary. I’ll return tomorrow,” the man muttered. He turned to leave, but hesitated for a second before glancing back. “Actually, could you tell him his brother stopped by?”

“Does this brother have a name?” Trixie asked, a hint of venom in her voice. A moment passed before Christian realized why. His boss was the Devil, which meant all of his siblings were angels and likely hated him.

The man didn’t answer. He simply studied the two with his back still turned and then hummed thoughtfully before walking away, almost in a march. 

“What the Hell?” Christian rubbed his head, a tingling headache he hadn’t noticed fading as the man left. The room felt noticeably darker for his absence too.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’s from there. Though, I confess I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”

*

The smell of citrus spray, old leather, and sweet sugar from the balls in the center. The feel of cool wood under his fingers, the leftover taste of whiskey in his mouth. Lucifer hated that he instinctively started counting things he could feel, see, touch, hear, and taste as the beginnings of a panic attack started. He hated how used to them he was, but he understood the necessity. It’d been over a year. Why wasn’t he getting over it? Why wasn’t he improving?

“Lucifer, you were down in your Hell Loop for a long, long time. No one can overcome that kind of trauma in just a year, not even the Devil,” Linda argued, proving to either she was a mind reader or he’d inadvertently spoken aloud. “But you _are_ improving. For example, you are able to sit here and talk with your old friends again.”

Usually. Though the attacks were spontaneous, he knew that his friends were often the source. Something they’d said was a bit too close to his nightmares, or maybe he saw something he’d seen a dozen times but _this_ time it triggered the memories of his friends crumbling to dust around him as they accused him of condemning them, ruining their lives. At least this time the attack seemed mild, controllable. That is if one called feeling as if he’d run a marathon with all his limbs pulled taut on a string controllable. Even mild attacks left him sore for the rest of the day. 

“Do you want to talk about what caused this attack?” Linda questioned softly, watching him carefully as he lounged on the couch as if he was relaxed.

Lucifer snorted. “What doesn’t? It’s always something inane, something said or done and I have no clue how to avoid it! I don’t want to avoid it either! I just want it to go away.”

“I understand, Lucifer, but right now we need to take steps to minimize the attacks and maximize the control.”

He wasn’t oblivious to how Linda spoke, at least not on this subject. She never openly said he would _ever_ get over it, just acknowledged his frustration and then directed him to damage control. At least Christian had openly told him that some people never recover, but he was determined to prove them wrong.

A brilliant light hearted tone, the tune to a popular T.V. show Lucifer had never heard of, chirped from his pocket and he slipped out the phone and pressed answer quickly, a bright smile on his face. “Spawn! What can I do for you today? I do hope Christian isn’t bothering you too much about my late showing.”

“No, no worries here, Lu,” Beatrice replied. “I mean, not in the Christian department.”

“Oh? Nothing in the Christian department? That’s awfully disappointing,” Lucifer drolled. His employee clearly had a thing for her, but he was really slow to do anything about it. Perhaps the Devil should give him a proper shove. “So what other worries could there possibly be?”

“Well, your brother stopped by, at least he claims to be your brother. And no, I don’t mean Amenadiel.”

The first brother that came to Lucifer’s mind was Uriel, the phantom manipulator lurking forever at the corner of his vision and in the darkest recesses of his mind, but that brother was dead. No one saw him except Lucifer himself. Unfortunately, that left plenty of other brothers. “Do go on. What did this brother of mine say or look like?”

“He just came in looking for you. Said to tell you your brother stopped by.” Trixie hummed slightly. “He was tall, handsome, blonde hair and green eyes.”

Nope, still no one specific. Afriel came to mind as most likely. A cafe full of teenagers, especially ones connected with his brother? It could certainly seem as a sign of adventure for him.

“He reminded me of a war veteran,” Christian added, his voice a bit distant as he tried to be picked up by the Spawn’s phone.

“Oh Hell,” Lucifer grumbled, not needing a moment more to know exactly who. Not that plenty of his brothers and sisters hadn’t fought in a war--one in which he fought against them, in fact. However, there would be only one that truly represented the actions of war. What did he want now? “That’s Michael.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 4 months later and a chapter not reaching 2k words, for that I am sorry. But it is here, after finally settling on how I want my Michael to work for this story. Sorry it took so long, here is an update at last. I also have a lot of comments to catch up on, but if I haven't yet, know that I am incredibly thankful for everyone's kind words!

In the end, the one who showed up was _not_ Lucifer, but instead his sister alongside her best friend. As the cafe was winding down to closing, the two shuffled in, hoods heavy on their heads from a sudden rain shower. Customers slowly filtered out while the two settled in with a simple drink each, talking with the two baristas about superfluous topics, like the latest Star Wars Trilogy or a new cartoon that seemed to catch their attention. 

Once the last customer left, the conversation switched. “So Mike showed up?” Azrael questioned, passing the remnants of her frappuccino over to Ella.

“That’s what Lucifer called him,” Christian explained, leaning forward on the counter with a cup of water. “Tall, blonde guy who carried himself like former military.”

“Sounds about right,” Azrael muttered. “He was the Angel of War. Millenia wouldn’t do much to change what was ingrained in him, especially since he spent it all in Heaven.”

“You make that sound like such a bad thing,” Ella replied, gleefully taking the frappuccino.

“It’s not, no matter what Lu might say, but it’s also…” Azrael waved a hand vaguely in the air as she tried to gather her thoughts. “Well, you know how Lu called Hell a job? It’s like that, just less… well Hell-ish? I don’t know, I spend most of my time chilling here with you regular folk. Well, you regular folk in the dead form.”

This conversation. Christian knew he needed to keep on topic, learn about Michael more, but a nagging part of his head couldn’t help but ask something he’d been dying to know. “What… what is Heaven like?” the teenage boy asked. Ella, notably, sat up at the question, focus entirely on the Angel of Death. Perhaps she, too, had been wondering.

“Heaven? Well… it’s nice.” Azrael stretched her arms up and out before laying them before her and resting her head on the table. “It’s like your own pocket of paradise, where your most wonderful fantasies can come true. Or you can wander around and visit with others, no worries to drag you down. Sometimes, you can greet newcomers, tell them the joy of the place so that your life can be expansive and wonderful. All highs, no lows, with angels at your beck and call.”

“And you angels are okay with that? Just serving humans?” Ella inquired.

Azrael shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it serving. And most of them don’t mind it. Seeing the smiling faces of humanity is usually fulfilling. Those that aren’t as interested get assigned different jobs, like escorting humanity to the gates or playing guardian against a potential war.”

A war. As in they worried that Lucifer would wage war against them. “Do you really think Lucifer would wage a war against Heaven?” Christian pushed.

“Right now? No way. The risk would be way too high. I still don’t think he’s visited Hell since he returned here, not that a year is all that comparable to his previous absence. Or continued?” Azrael hummed slightly, sorting her thoughts. “Anyway, up until less than a decade ago, I wouldn’t have put it past him. He didn’t really have a reason, but Lu was definitely more of a ‘on-a-whim’ kind of guy. Or so I heard. It doesn’t help that, even now, I think some of our siblings would relish the idea of a war between Heaven and Hell. Any excuse to kill some demons and some time.”

“You don’t think that’s why Michael’s here, do you?” Trixie said quietly.

“Unlikely?” Rae-Rae shrugged again. “But I won’t toss it out entirely. Michael’s loyal to Dad, though, so unless Dad asks for it he won’t start anything. Demon hunting is still on the table, but there aren’t a lot of demons on earth right now, and only one in Los Angeles.”

“I’ll warn Mazikeen,” Ella noted, quickly typing a text out on her phone.

The angel of death winced. “Hopefully neither meet, but it is good to give Maze a heads up, I guess.” Leaning back, Azrael took her frappuccino back from Ella, draining the last bit before continuing. “Anywho, Lu said he’ll be in tomorrow to ‘deal with that rigid asshole’ and clear up this mess. I don’t know how well it’ll go, but bring sunglasses and a bulletproof vest maybe?”

“I would rather not be here if they’re going to fight,” Christian muttered.

“I’d rather they not fight at all,” Trixie added. “I don’t think the conflict would be good for his mental health.”

Christian had to agree to that. The Devil, despite being an ancient being that Christian _still_ had a hard time wrapping his mind around, was very human in his emotions and the stress of an even fight could put a strain on that tenuous battle with his mind he was constantly waging. The attacks were less severe, less frequent, but what if this reversed all that effort of the past year?

Hopefully, whatever Michael was here for wouldn’t destroy everything they’d built up.

*

Watching as the bus left, taking Trixie with it, Christian sighed heavily. He didn’t want to go back to the cafe yet, though he had an early morning approaching. Sometimes he felt trapped in the small shop, living and working there with only moments of reprieve when Lu or Trixie could handle the lulls in customers. It was a small shop, but popular enough that two people almost consistently worked. Soon, hopefully, the other members of the Advocate’s Club would help out, but there was no guarantee. Only Jesus had graduated with him, and he was preparing to go to college this upcoming fall. Esther and Noah offered to assist after hours or on breaks, but they were still uncomfortable around the Devil, who was best qualified to train them.

“That’s the fifth sigh in as many minutes.”

The teen jolted away from the bike rack he was leaning again, turning to spot a familiar blonde man, one they’d been talking about all day. “Michael! What are you doing here?” Christian gasped. Knowing the figure before him was the Angel of War made the whole scene odd. The angel stood like a soldier, defaulting to a parade rest, but wore clothes better suited to a businessman. He didn’t give off the aura of charm that Lucifer did, nor authority like Amenadiel. Instead, it was as if the man simply existed outside of reality, as if Christian could blink and he’d be gone.

“Waiting for my brother” Michael answered. “He never showed up.”

Had Michael been watching the store all that time? Christian hadn’t noticed, which didn’t unnerve him as much as realizing _nor did Azrael_. “Lu called, said he’ll be in tomorrow.” Christian deliberately left off the rest of Lucifer’s message. Michael’s neutral expression momentarily shifted to a frown, though, making Christian wonder if he hadn’t stopped there.

“I see.” Silence stretched between them before the angel added, “You know the truth.”

“The truth?” Christian questioned, furrowing his brow. This time it was Michael who sighed.

“Don’t play coy. Lucifer does that enough as is. You know he is who he says he is. You know who I am. Who Azrael is.”

For a brief moment, Christian wanted to reply sarcastically. Of course he knew who they were; that’s what names were for. However, instead he didn’t reply, lowering his gaze and then glancing back towards the cafe. Perhaps now would be a good time to return home after all.

“You’re fine. I don’t plan on hurting you. But it is what I’m here for.”

“You’re here because I know?” Christian said skeptically.

Shaking his head slowly, the angel waited a moment before replying. “I’m here because _a lot of people_ know. And I’m here to stop any catastrophe as a result of this.”

“You’re about a year too late for that,” Christian muttered, closing his eyes. Two friends enthralled by Lucifer’s light.

“I know.” The tone of Michael’s voice was sorrowful. Green eyes genuinely looked remorseful. He didn’t drop the stance, but his arms tensed slightly behind his back.

“So, why now? Why did you wait so long?”

The angel was silent for a long time. The pauses in conversation frustrated Christian. It was hard to place the direction they were going when every moment led to a stop sign. After a few moments, with Christian silently fuming, Michael sighed again. “We had a hard time deciding who best to come. It led… to a conflict.”

“One you clearly won,” Christian replied, groaning slightly.

The soft smile that was Michael’s response, however, startled him. “No, I favored sending Phanuel or Gabriel. However, I pulled the…” Another pause, this time Christian heard a small muttering under Michael’s breath as the angel tilted his head to the side in contemplation. When he finally continued, there was a questioning note in his voice. “I pulled the short straw?”

It was the smile, the suit, the pose, and the tone that put it all together for Christian. The angel himself felt he didn’t belong there, but was making an effort. Some tension eased between them and Christian managed a polite smile. “So you don’t plan on fighting Lu?”

After a moment, the blonde shook his head. “Not if Lucifer doesn’t want to fight. I won’t leave myself vulnerable, though.”

“Then what do you plan to do?”

Michael hesitated and then shrugged slightly, the movement barely noticeable. “It’s better if I discuss it with Lucifer first.” Brilliant green eyes studied Christian, searching for something. “I worry about you, however. All of you. An association with the Devil cannot be… easy on the soul. If you need someone to ease the burden of knowledge…”

“You’ll help?” Christian suggested. He didn’t argue that working for Lu was a burden, but he suspected it was for reasons entirely separate from Michael’s.

“No. Not unless the burden causes physical wounds. Rather, I recommend a priest or prayer.”

Yeah, that’d worked out so well. Growing up in a Catholic family hadn’t stopped his conflict upon knowing the real Devil. Somehow, Christian doubted more church would solve it. But it did sound like something a messenger of God would say. A soft laugh escaped his lips at the situation.

The small smile returned to the Angel of War’s face and he bowed formally. “You’ll be fine. You’re a good person. It’s obvious.”

Well, Christian didn’t think he was a bad person, but few often did. That did beg another question though. The teen breathed deeply before asking “Do you think Lucifer is a bad person, then?”

After another break in conversation, Michael said “No, not anymore. But that could easily change.” The angel bowed again, this one shallow as he turned on one heel and marched off, ever the soldier in his movements. 

Somehow, the knowledge that Michael didn’t see Lucifer as evil made Christian feel better, at least spiritually. It didn’t solve everything. There was still some bitterness in Michael’s tone when he spoke of his brother, but maybe that would change when they met the next day. The teen had to admit that he wanted to hear that conversation, see how Michael’s opinion would change. There was a major potential problem though.

“Hey Mom? I was wondering. If an angel spoke a language, what would be the most likely one they would speak?” Christian asked, having called his parents as soon as he returned to the cafe.

His mother laughed, thankfully taking the question as innocently as he hoped. “My guess would be Hebrew.”

“Hebrew. I don’t suppose you speak Hebrew and could teach me the basics in one evening?”

Once more, his mother chuckled. “No. I don’t, and no one learns a language in a day, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna chat? Bitch about my slow updates? Shoot the breeze about Lucifer? You can catch me on Twitter: @Vaellin

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry this took so long. It wound up being a bigger project than planned and I really want to start my post season 4 story before season 5 is out, so I'll be working on this while intermingled with THAT story (as well as personal projects I'm hoping to get published)


End file.
